Worlds Away Right At Home
by 1001Characters
Summary: AU set post Ep.1x10. Red is having a logistical problem.
1. Chapter 1

**My first Blacklist fanfiction. Something short to get my feet wet. Reviews welcome.**

**Worlds Away Right at Home**

Red couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten drunk.

He almost always had a glass of wine or two with dinner and a night cap. But it had been years since he had gotten too drunk to stand. So he sat on the bathroom floor in a studio apartment in Dublin, the sounds of the city pouring through a window above his head. It reminded him of home. Of Lizzie.

He hadn't meant to call her. Didn't realize he had until he heard her voice. His eyes drifted closed as a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Agent Keen. Hello?"

"Lizzie," Red's voice came out in a tired sigh, her name like a prayer.

Across an ocean Liz paused on her front steps. Ressler had just texted her about a lead in Red's whereabouts. It had been six months since he disappeared and if she were honest with herself, she missed him terribly. When she wasn't cursing him for running out on her. Still his voice was like a warm embrace.

"Red? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I had to make it safe for you, Lizzie," he whispered, ignoring her questions. "I wouldn't have left you otherwise."

The pain in his voice slammed into her like a fist to her midsection. Cluthcing the stone railing, she all but dropped to the steps beneath her. "Red, please tell me where you are? If you can't come back, I'll come to you. Let me help you."

"No,no," he muttered, running his hand over his face. "I can't keep you safe, Lizzie."

"You always keep me safe."

Red pressed the heel of his hand to his blurry eyes, blocking out the image of Lizzie paralyzed in that wheelchair; on her knees in front of the box, Anslo's gun to her head. "Garrick_"

"Didn't hurt me, Red. You stopped him. Just like you stopped Wujing and the Stewmaker. You kept me safe," Liz's words broke off on a sob. "You always keep me safe. But I'm out here, Red, without you. Tom is gone and I have no one to rely on. Everyone at the post office mistrusts me. I... I need you, Red."

The silence stretched out as Liz waited for his reply. She hadn't meant to say all that, but if protecting her was his reason for staying away then he needed to know his absence hurt her far worse.

After a long moment, his voice came through, an air of resignment attached to his words. "Dublin sounds like home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for your response to this story. It was meant to be a one shot but, here we go...**

**Chapter 2**

"Keen, where are you? We've got to roll on this Reddington tip now."

Liz pulled her car into the private hangar that held Red's jet. She waved at Dembe who stood just under the wing.

"Ressler listen. I've spoken to Reddington. I'm going to retrieve him... No, no he doesn't trust Cooper or anyone else right now. I'm only telling you because you owe him... Aram showed me the tapes, I know he saved your life. I'm calling in Red's favor, Don. Please don't tell Cooper where I am?"

In the parking lot of the Post Office, Ressler struggled with his loyalties. His job could be in jeopardy if he kept what he knew to himself. Liz could be in jeopardy if he let her go after Reddington alone. But she was right, he owed the bastard his life. And Reddington would probably shoot anything not Elizabeth Keen.

"You stay in contact with me, Keen. Whoever hired Garrick could still be after Reddington. Be careful."

Liz nodded at Dembe. "I swear I'll keep you informed. Thank you, Ressler."

Ressler ran his hands over his hair. "Thank me by not getting killed... Now you and Reddington both owe me. And Keen?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell Reddington I tried the caviar. It sucks."

Ending the call Ressler let out a breath. Without a second thought, he headed for his car. He'd run down that obviously bogus tip anyway. That should buy them both some time until he figured out what the hell he was going to tell Cooper.

Liz ground her cellphone under foot. Ressler was a horrible liar.

If he didn't come up with a diverson, Liz had about 30 minutes to drop off the grid. She followed Dembe out of the hangar into the waiting Mercedes.

"I have chartered us a plane at a smaller airstrip," Dembe informed as they pulled away. "The folio on the seat next to you contains your documentation."

Grabbing up the thin case, Liz dumped its contents into her lap. A new cell phone, a map of Dublin, an envelope full of cash, passport and a New York driver's license.

She read the name beside a slightly dated photo of her. Emily Parker.

"Dembe, I called you less than an hour ago. How did you_"

"Mr. Reddington prepares for every eventuality, Agent Keen."

Liz leaned back into the soft leather seat, her hand immediately worrying her scar. Mr. Reddington wouldn't be prepared for this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the reviews. This chapter was tough for me, so I'm really anxious to see what you all think.**

**Chapter 3**

Trudging up the stairs that led to the overpriced box Dembe had secured for him, Red was beyond exhausted.

Hungover and irritable, he'd had to meet with an overly chatty contact four hours across the Irish Sea in Liverpool. The fact that the conversation yielded next to nothing in terms of who had bank rolled Garrik's assault on the Post Office only served to irriate him further. So he'd returned to his apartment bemoaning the loss of time and contemplating his next move.

In truth Red should have been moving to the next safe house. He hadn't stayed in the same country longer than three days at a time following the incursion. But Dembe was coming in the morning and he needed him for the next phase of the mission: uncovering the deficit in his organization that assisted Garrick and Fitch in upsetting his arrangement with the FBI thereby impeding his progress with the Blacklist; with Lizzie.

Inside his apartment, Red let himself indulge in the thought of her. She'd been hovering at the edge of his mind all day, ever since he'd awaken on his bathroom floor, an empty bottle of Jameson's and his cell phone kicked across the tile.

Red had dreamed of her again. As he had every night since limping away from Garrick's torture chamber. Visions of the rare smiles she bestowed on him, interpersed with nightmares of her at some nameless psychopath's mercy, linked with dreams of moments he wanted to share with her in the future.

Red grimaced as he walked into his bedroom, pulling at his tie. He had to get control of himself. His preoccupation with Elizabeth Keen had only grown since he had left and most of the night before was an alcoholic blur because of it. He needed to focus, which meant he needed to be sober. Which meant he needed to put her out of his mind.

Red roamed the apartment, restlessly from the bedroom to the small sitting room to the even smaller kitchen and back again. Finally he sat near a window looking out over the city.

_Dublin sounds like home._

Red couldn't recall how he ended up in the bathroom or even calling her, but his last words swung over his head like Damocles' sword. What had he been thinking of? Her. He'd been thinking distinctly of her creamy skin, illuminated by her dark hair. Those ocean colored eyes and cherry lips that brought the demons in him to heel.

Shaking his head, as if to clear it, Red reached for the bottle of wine he'd left from lunch. He sat at the window for hours, until he finally retired to his bedroom. Red lay there in the dark running through his next steps in his mind. It was nearly 3am when Red slide out of bed, grabbed his gun from the table and made himself ready.

BLBLBL

Elizabeth Keen had seen some startling and impressive sights in her time, especially since coming into contact with Raymond Reddington and his Blacklist. But the sight of the man himself standing in a darkened doorway slightly dishoveled and idly tapping a Colt 45 1911 against his thigh would be forever burned into her brain. Liz tried to shutter her awed expression as he looked down at her crouched just beyond his door.

Red shifted, swearing to himself. He couldn't have had that much to drink. Unless he was dreaming again or God help him hallucinating. Red's head fell back, his eyes slipping closed as he breathed deep. The unmistakable scent of jasmine, vanilla and something uniquely Lizzie filled the air around him. He was wide awake and she was here. When his eyes returned to hers, Lizzie gave him a tentative smile.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She shrugged holding up a thin piece of crooked metal. "... Picking your lock."

"With a hairpin? Lizzie, really, what did they teach you in school?"

"Apparently not enough," she rejoined getting to her feet. "Now that we've established how unimpressed you are with my petty larceny skills, will you let me in?"

Red let his eyes roam over her face. He should send her on her way. Despite his pleasure at seeing her and the instant calm she brought to his mind, he should call Dembe from wherever he was hiding and send her away. Being around Lizzie made him weak. Made him want to be a better man and Red didn't have time for that. But he had issued an invitation. Granted a drunken, guilt ridden one, but an invitation nonetheless and he was nothing if not polite.

Stepping back, he waved her inside. Closing the door, Red leaned back and watched Lizzie move around his apartment. She always did the same thing whenever she was admitted to one of his safe houses. She found a lamp, dousing the room in muted light. Her eyes swept the place, always appreciating the things she knew by now were his. Honestly what would a Rembrandt be doing hanging in a Dublin walk up?

"That was a dangerous stunt you attempted, Lizzie," he murmured after a while.

Tightening her palm around the empty bottle of wine, Liz finally turned her attention back to him. "I could say the same for you... Giving Garrick the code to the box."

Red lowered his head, regarding her with a sad smile. "I believe I told you once before I would always do whatever is necessary to save your life."

"I don't understand you," she said, fustration clouding her eyes. "I have been in constant danger ever since you came into my life. You throw me into these situations you know I'm not prepared for and then make a big deal out of rescuing me, when I wouldn't have even been in danger if I wasn't with you."

There were so many things he could say to that, but he settled on the fact that amused him the most. "Yet here you are," he drawled pushing away from the door. He closed in on her, stopping just short of breathing her air. "Why are you here, Lizzie?"

She looked at him, secretly glad he was being his usual brash and infuriating self. She much preferred it to the state she expected to find him in, but she knew better than to tell him everything at once. "To make sure you get back to Washington in one piece."

Red let out a full laugh, shaking his head at her. "I'm not going back, Lizzie. At least not yet."

Liz just stared, unable to decide what scared her more the sliver of panic she felt when he said he wasn't going back or her relief when he said "not yet."

"Red, someone went through a lot of trouble, risked a lot of lives to get to you. Let me help you. Don't run from this."

He pushed aside his annoyance at her belief that he would run from anything. "I was abducted from an FBI blacksite. A place that doesn't exist and you expect me to entrust my well being to the very idiots that brought me there? I'm not running, Lizzie, I respectfully decline."

His attitude annoyed her. "You know this isn't simple. Someone betrayed you and you have no idea who or how deep it goes. You don't know who you're up against, not really."

His jaw clenched. Since when did he become to inept in her eyes. "Just what do you think I've been doing the past month_"

"Besides drunk dialing me?"

She watched as her cheapshot hit home, dampening the mix pride and amusment their encounters always seemed to bring him. Within 30 seconds of her careless remark tumbling into the air between them, Red shut down. She stepped toward him, laying her hand on his chest, shuttering at the tension vibrating from his body.

"I'm sorry, Red, I shouldn't have joked about that. I... I know what it took for you to reach out to me. To trust that I wouldn't betray you too. But you didn't hear what I said, Red. I asked you to let _me_ help you. Not the FBI. _Me, Red._ That's why I'm here... because you're here and I need to know you're safe."

Red's eyes slipped closed at her words. He hadn't expected them.

Luli.

Jumping from place to place.

The loneliness.

Missing her.

Everything crashed down on him at once and for the first time in decades he felt as if he didn't have to hide it. He looked down at her. Her open look of sincerity and concern drawing him closer. Placing his hand over hers where it rested on his chest, Red leaned forward until his forehead touched hers. There was barely space between them.

"Come to stay a while, Lizzie?" His whispered question, his voice pitched low, drew her closer.

"As long as you need me."

_I'll always need you_ jumped from his heart to his tounge, but he held back. He was loosing focus again. Allowing her to stay here was dangerous, but Red had lost that battle when he found her on his door step. Still he needed to put distance between them.

"Well, since we have that settled," he pronounced turning toward the bedroom. "I'm going to turn in. You're more than welcome to one half of the bed. If not," he through a wicked smirk over his shoulder, "the tiles on the bathroom floor are heated."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Liz sat in Red's darkened apartment. She had been so determined to get to Red she never thought about what would happen when she actually found him. There had been so much pain in his voice when he'd called that part of her had been prepared to play nurse maid. But to her relief he looked healthy despite the evidence of torture they'd found in Garrik's warehouse. Sure he looked more tired than normal, but it had been a long and stressful month for them all. Perhaps he needed just what she'd offered: Her.

Liz bit down on her lip as the significance of her being in Dublin, promising to stay as long as Red needed her or until he felt returning to Washington was safe began to dawn on her. She'd committed her immediate future to the number four on the FBI's Most Wanted List. But in truth she'd done that months ago, ever since that helicopter swooped down in front of her bungalo. It had all been about Raymond Reddington and although her professional career had prospered, her personal life was in upheaval.

Her marriage had fallen apart in the first weeks following Red's disappearance. Despite Tom being cleared, the doubts lingered and Liz became less adept at hiding it. Then he had come up with the idea of moving to Nebraska and civil conversations ceased to exsist.  
Deciding that avoiding him and their bitter encounters was the easiest thing, Liz grabbed on to Cooper's directive that they find Red at all costs. She practically lived at the Post Office. Soon they were like strangers and when he left Liz didn't say a word.  
Some part of her blamed Red for planting those seeds of doubt about Tom in her heart, but Liz knew she couldn't blame him for Tom leaving; Mr. Keen had done that all on his own.

Tiredness began to set in and Liz soon felt every joint in her body as the adrenaline she'd been running on bled away. Dembe had told her Red was planning to move in the morning. Liz needed to be on top of her game, which meant she needed to sleep.

Pulling off her jacket, Liz made her way down the hall. There was only one door at the end of it standing slightly ajar. She moved forward a mix of nerveousness and dread creeping into her stomach. Stopping in the doorway, Liz drew in a deep breath. She rapt lightly on the door causing it to open a bit more.

"Red," she called blindly into the darkness. "Red?"

"Come in, Lizzie," his words came softly and not at all sleeplaced.

Pushing the door all the way open, Lizzie stepped inside Red's bedroom. He lay in the middle of the bed, his hands behind his head. A shaft of moonlight cut through the blackness helping her make out his face. "I, umm, need to..."

"You are at home where ever I am, Lizzie. The second drawer should have something for you to sleep in. I assume Dembe has your things. Where is he, by the way?"

"He went into the apartment downstairs," she replied moving over to the dresser on the far side of the room. "I just assumed it was his."

She heard Red's huff of laughter as she slid open the drawer. Crisp white undershirts meticulously folded and layered in neat rows gleamed in the dark. She picked one up. They were cool to the touch and faintly smelled of Red's cologne. More digging produced a pair of black sweats. Closing the drawer, Liz quickly slipped into the bathroom, pretending not to feel Red's steady gaze at her back.

Red lay in the dark listening to her move around his bathroom. A touch of a smile on his lips, he let himself pretend that she was his. And soon the door would open and she'd emerge; a smile on her lips and love in her eyes. He'd open his arms to her as she joined him in their bed. He breathed deep, letting the warmth of his illusions wash over him. "Lizzie."

"Yeah."

Glad for the darkness that hid his startled expression, Red looked ovet at Liz standing in the doorway. The light from the bathroom illuminated her form. His breath left him at the sight of her in his clothes, Liz's perfect curves bringing the cloth to life in a way that pushed his ruminations in a dangeous direction. Giving himself a menmental shake, Red sat up against the headboard.

"Did you find everything you needed?"

If Liz noticed his slight discomfort she didn't let on. "I did, thank you," she gave him a small smile as she headed for the door. "G'night, Red."

"You'll be terribly uncomfortable on the sofa, Lizzie."

Liz had hoped he wouldn't reissue the invitation to share his bed. She had crossed enough lines in the past 12 hours. "I don't think that's appropriate," she said to the door.

"What about this is? If you're going to be up to the task ahead you need to be well rested."

She looked at him then, her lips turned up in a disbelieving smirk. "And that'll only happen if I sleep with you? Sleep... in the bed with you," she winced as he chuckled at her badly turned phrase.

"Believe me Lizzie there is nothing more comfortable than this bed. This place was not designed for longterm dwelling. The chairs are for sitting only and I have no idea what purpose Dembe thought that sofa would serve." He slid over, turning back the covers. "Come, Lizzie, you're dead on your feet. I won't tell if you won't," he added with a lascivious grin.

Unable to stop the laughter that bubbled up, Liz resigned herself to the inevitable and climbed in next to Red.

He smiled as she settled herself on her side. When she was comfortable, Red slid down to his pillow, his eyes on hers. The quiet settled around them and Liz tried to read the sudden emotion in his gaze. The inferior glint that often accompanied his teasing had succombed to something more genuine. She watched his brow furrow in thought, his lips parting slightly as if he would speak. Suddenly Red's mouth snapped closed as he turned his back to her.

Liz smiled to herself. She was getting better at reading him, but not at understanding him. For a man who knew dozens of languages and was never at a loss for words, something as simple as 'I'm glad you're here' seemed to elude him.

"Thank you for letting me stay, Red."

She heard his deep sigh.

"Don't thank me yet," he muttered, the urge to send her away invading his mind again. "This won't be easy, Lizzie."

He couldn't see her smile.

"I wasn't expecting it to be, but we'll handle it. Together."

Red's hand reached back into the space between them finding hers in the dark, squeezing it gently.

"Sweet dreams, Lizzie."

"Good night, Red."


End file.
